Conversations with Maniacs
by Galaxy Eye
Summary: Collection of one-shots involving our new favorite quirky heroes. Stories range from humor to romance to action. Anthology. Enjoy
1. Feel the Beat

_Characters: Star-Lord, Rocket, Drax  
Genre: humor & friendship  
Rated: K  
_

* * *

**Feel the Beat**

Peter Quill sat in the cockpit of the Milano, tapping his fingers to the feel-good groove of "Come and Get Your Love".

Rocket Raccoon leaned back in the oversized seat next to Quill and motioned his toes to the beat. "Not bad," the raccoon said, "Kind of makes you feel all warm inside, just like the smell of burning circuits and smoldering metal."

Quill glanced at Rocket. "Remember that engine coil you removed from my ship and attached to your fancy new weapon?"

"You mean this thing?"

Rocket pulled a contraption seemingly out of nowhere and waved it in the air. It looked like a ball with spikes coming out of it. With no apparent barrel or trigger, there was no doubt in Quill's mind that it was capable of blowing up the ship.

Quill sat up wide eyed and nervously smiled. "Yeah, that thing. Now why don't you put it down, gently, and put the coil back where it belongs before you blow us into space. Sounds like a deal?"

Drax had just walked through the cockpit doors looking intense as always. "Do as Star-Lord says," the warrior growled.

Rocket stood on the chair and balanced the contraption on a palm. "Please, I'm a professional."

"Rodent," Drax muttered as he made his way to the console. He glanced at Quill, "How much further till—"

"Wow, wow, _wow_," Rocket said waving his tiny hand. "_Excuse me?_"

Quill rolled his eyes. "Not again."

"What did you call me?"

Drax slowly turned to the raccoon and edged closer until their noses were inches apart. The warrior's eyes were stone cold like he wanted to eat the small creature whole. Rocket was showing teeth, claws primed to gouge eyes.

"Ro…_dent_." Drax smiled. His eyes lingered over the small beast, waiting for the predicted reaction.

Rocket's fur stood on end; his eyes becoming narrow black slits as he glared at the man many times his size. The raccoon's expression suddenly softened and he threw the contraption over his shoulder. "Ahh, you ain't worth it." He jumped down from the seat as Quill leapt up from his to catch the would-be bomb from hitting the ground. Rocket muttered something incomprehensible as he exited the cockpit and closed the door behind him.

Recovering from what felt like a heart-attack, Quill rested Rocket's contraption on the dashboard then gave Drax a look of disappointment. "You know he's sensitive with the name calling."

"He is tiny and infantile. He is also hairy and has an off-putting odor."

Quill was never one to keep order. He pretty much grew up on a ship where the only thing that mattered was the next job and his share of the profits. But it was different now. This was _his_ team; the Guardians of the Galaxy. He had responsibilities or something right?

Quill patted the empty seat. "Take a seat my friend. I want you to listen to something."

Drax raised a brow as if he knew he was going to be appalled by the human's strange melodies. After a moment, the warrior sat down stiffly, ready to stand back up again.

"Relax," Quill said as he flipped to the next track. He started bobbing his head to the introduction.

"What is the task I am to do?" Drax asked.

"Just, you know, listen. Feel the beat, loosen up a little." Quill gently punched Drax in the shoulder, which he immediately regretting doing as the green warrior glared at him.

Drax blinked, "'Feel the beat'...'Loosen up'…I am unfamiliar with these techniques."

Quill let the music take him and he started singing, "_I can't stop this feeling… deep inside of me…_" He looked at Drax who looked perplexed as ever. "_When you hold me_… common Drax… _in your arms so tight_…_you let me know_… _everything's alright_." As the chorus hit, Quill dramatically stood up from the seat and sung into a fist. "Say it with me Drax, _I'm hooked on a feeling_…"

"I'm hooked on a feeling…" the warrior said in a monotone voice.

"_I'm high on believing_…"

"I'm high on believing…"

"_That you're in love with me!_"

"That you're… but I'm not in love with you."

Quill chuckled. "It's just a song man. You're not singing to me. You're singing _with_ me."

"Oh."

"Get it?"

"No."

It was an interesting moment to say the least, but it was safe to say that a wall, or at least a brick, that was in between Quill and his crew had broken away. He had a feeling that he would grow close to these people—maniacs, the ones on the broken end of life, and they'd become the closest thing to family he'd ever know.


	2. Faces in the Stars

_Characters: Star-Lord (main focus), Gamora, Groot, Rocket, Drax_  
_Genre: drama and action_  
_Rated: T for mature themes and cursing_

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**Faces in the Stars**

Not much can be said for heroism when the hero's path is lonely and the only observers are the distance stars. It's easy to let yourself go and pretend like nothing matters anymore. When the fuel's almost gone and the weapon's array is shooting dust, there's only one thing to do: head nose first into the heart of it, of the enemy ship high above. Green and blue balls of light wiz past Star Lord's ship; he strafes left and right, the lights scrape his hull but they are nothing to him but raindrops in a storm. The question of why he hasn't exploded yet crosses his mind but it doesn't need an answer. He already knows why with every thrust of acceleration, with every turn of the controls; he is unstoppable.

His right wing blows away but Star Lord does not flinch. He's getting closer to the beast's heart and suddenly, he starts to remember. The faces of his crew appear in fleeting paintings, quickly moving further away and disappearing into the corners of his mind. Though he searches for those thoughts, his body is resolute as he continues flying forward. He finds a memory. Gamora is looking out a window.

"And when I saw you floating in space, I didn't care about dying. I just wanted to save you."

"Are you trying to romanticize me again, Star Lord?"

"No…I—"

"Because I told you before that I wouldn't tolerate that kind of sorcery."

He remembers her adorable frown but the image fades. The pictures are passing too quickly and Star Lord cannot find the best moment to remember before he dies. More shapes form in the darkness.

"You see on Earth, we have trees everywhere. They line up side by side for miles upon miles."

"I am Groot…"

"And when we need to build something, we chop them down. Hack, hack!"

"I am Groot!"

"But we always put the wood to good use, you know? Like for baseball bats, golf tees and really sturdy fences. Of course if our trees walked and talked like you, I'd imagine there'd be a tree country and all the trees would go there to be safe."

"I am Groot."

"Yeah, that would be something, wouldn't it?"

Groot is smiling but a burst of light shatters the image—Star Lord's ship shakes violently. The front window is cracking; another impact and it will shatter, but it doesn't matter now; he's too close to stop. Star Lord closes his eyes.

"Comon, Rocket. I'm not trying to be insensitive. I'm just curious."

"I was an accident, okay? There, I said it. I was the result of a mechanical malfunction and tasked with caring for a bunch of loony-bins. Ask me how fun that was. Lots of other shit happened and then I ended up here, with you."

"Because I'm charming and an all-around, good guy?"

"No, you're a damn lunatic. But it just so happens you vaguely know where you're going in life. And I…well I guess I don't mind being on that path for a while until I figure out my own path."

Star Lord is so close to the enemy ship now. He sees the texture of its hull; jutting and uneven like the hide of a demon. But Star Lord is smiling. There isn't one, perfect memory to remember. They all have to be remembered; every laugh, every frown. They all form something Star Lord cannot describe, but it makes him smile. Maybe it's simply happiness. Does it have to be more complicated?

A blinding light engulfs him and Star Lord feels his body being torn in every direction. Whether he opens or closes his eyes, all he sees is white light. Is this finally the end?

"But you, Star Lord, you are a reckless fool, even more than I. I for one will not forget what you've done, what you've sacrificed. You are a true warrior, and I…I am glad to have known you as a friend."

Star Lord sees Drax's face above him but it's muddled like a sight through water. The tattooed warrior becomes wide eyed.

"He—he has not succumbed to death! Star Lord!"

The images of the rest of his crew appear but something is different. The shapes and colors do not fade like before.

"Peter."

Gamora is above him now, touching his cheek, stroking his hair. Star Lord feels the warmth of her hands, and he realizes this is no memory. He's breathing heavily; the pain is excruciating. His comrades have saved him, but how? There are too many questions—so many feelings he cannot describe, but none of that matters right now. He just wants to see their faces, those unwavering faces.


End file.
